2. On Perspective
About a decade ago, I really struggled with perspective. Truth be told, that was a common theme throughout most of my life to that point.
For example, as a 15 year old I would get irrationally upset about getting out in cricket after scoring just a handful of runs. And the reason I’d get upset was because I couldn’t escape the feeling that everyone was judging me as I trudged from the field, bat morosely tucked under my arm, feeling as though the eyes of the world were on me. I guess that’s being a teenager for us all.
But, to be honest, it carried on into my twenties. But it was no longer about my dubious tendency to get trapped LBW anymore, but rather concerns for my career. How was I shaping up to those around me? What did my new colleague who I just met really think about me? Was I earning enough, or did I feel I was on the path to be successful enough? Or a host of other ways to compare and contrast myself to others in an effort get a hold on the perspective of my own life.
I couldn’t figure out a way to break that cycle. Until I found a different approach to perspective that starts with a surprising question,
How often do you think about death?
There’s one undeniable truth that unites every single person on this planet - we are all going to die.
It is estimated that over the course of human history, approximately 109 billion people have died. And one day, you and I will become a very small fraction of a slightly larger number than that.
Thinking about death in the context of ambiguity means that it doesn’t have to represent fear, regret, anxiety - it can offer perspective. Because it confirms that we are a tiny part of something unfathomably huge; the entirety of human existence.
The galaxies that race away from us, the stars that extinguish above us, the billions of species that float through the waters that surround us - we exist as an infinitely small speck of everything that swirls around us today, that’s swirled before in history and that will swirl away from us in the millennia to come.
An idea that has been central to pretty much every major philosophical, religious, or creative mindset is this:
An idea formalised by the Stoics, Memento Mori is not meant to be morbid, to instill fear, or induce regret. Rather, the thought itself is designed to liberate, to inspire, to motivate and to clarify. It’s designed to offer us perspective about our place in the grand design of… everything.
Steve Jobs, while in full knowledge that the march of death was arriving at his door, said:
We’ve all been in a situation where we’ve said or done something that has left us feeling wholly horrified; frozen to the spot with embarrassment, or willing our feet to take flight from a room as a rising tide of humiliation rages within us. But we’ve also all experienced how those feelings fade over time. Even the deepest cuts heal; perhaps not always fully, but their pain reduces each and every day. And that is certainly true for embarassment, and all of our feelings.
Remembering that we are going to die - that in the future no one is going to care about any one personally cringe-inducing moment - helps to gain perspective of a pain more easily in the here and now.
Some day in the future, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe in 50 years, you will be gone. You will be that tiny speck swirling in and among all the other infiniteness of the world. No one, absolutely no one, will be thinking about the time you spilled a whole plate of spaghetti bolognese on the carpet of a stranger’s house when you were 9 years old and tried to get the dog to eat it all before anyone noticed. In time, that moment will exist only in your mind. So why live in worry today?
You can only control what lies ahead of you, not behind.
Remembering that we are all destined to die is liberating. It focuses our mind to carry out those actions that add meaning to our lives, and frees us from worrying about those that we should let go; the ones that are now beyond our control.
It reminds us to be grateful for what we have today, and to stop wishing for what we think we might want tomorrow.
It gives us perspective of how small we ultimately are.
And that grants us freedom from judgement to take control of who we want to be.
Memento Mori.
Remember you must die.
These posts are written to remind our readers that; Life is hard, we’re all just trying our best and we could all do with a little help, no matter where it comes from.
For an extensive history into Memento Mori and its meaning, please read here.
What do you think about Learning from Perspective? We’d love to hear your comments below.